Forgotten
by xThe Painted Lady
Summary: Severus has a message for the Dark Lord. He wonders when he began to give in to pain so willingly. Slight AU.


_**A/N: **Written for Round 9 of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, in place of Seeker. I must admit, writing Voldemort and Snape was fun. Heh. Also for the Character Diversity Boot Camp Challenge with the prompt "forgotten."_

_**Warnings:** Mild torture._

_**Word count:** 2936_

_Onward!_

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Low was the moon that night, a soft luminescent crescent in the pitch black sky, painting a faint light over the little village. Hogsmeade was often peculiar at night, in a slightly shady, irritating way, with drunkards on the cobbled streets attempting to grope everything that moved. However, Severus Snape glided along down the path past multiple shops and inns just as the clouds did above him - silent, dark, unseen.

The village was feral that night. It was not on rare occasions that Severus wished for peace in these times. Often he was alone, confined to his thoughts and manifestations on what had become his life after joining the Dark Lord. Evenings were spent in silence, with only stifled anxiety and quiet determination as his companions -ignoring disturbances had become easy, but when Severus went on nightly missions to spy on whoever he could, he could live without the screams of drunken men from the inns and the odd stares he received from the occasional passersby. He greeted the old woman walking alone with a small nod. She seemed to regard him for a moment, before nodding back, and hopefully taking any guiding suspicion with her as she moved on.

Villages like Hogsmeade always seemed to be rather alive at night - that was normal. What was strange was how seemingly empty it had appeared earlier that day. Severus had taken time to consider, as he wandered around aimlessly, attempting to pull off the air of one who actually had a reason to be there, the amount of times he had been to Hogsmeade in the past couple of years. There were few, and so, he took the idea of simply not being aware of how busy and how slow the village could be and dropped the thought.

Then Dumbledore appeared, thus the clinging of shop bells as well as time seemed to stop for a moment. Severus had wasted not a second in following, being sure to remain as quiet and elusive as possible.

The lack of a crowd made the challenge difficult, to say the least. Severus was careful to keep an eye locked on Dumbledore whilst he made his way down the cobblestone street, and when the old wizard rounded a corner, Severus' slow trek eased up just a little more. Once enough time had past to prove that Dumbledore was not planning a sly attack on him, however, he continued to move foreword.

When Severus came to the corner Dumbledore had disappeared around, he paused to gaze down the street. The ornate blue robes and tall, half moon patterned hat were a little too hard to miss.

Severus continued his pursuit, quieter than the the leaves that billowed about the silent lane.

It came time that Dumbledore ended his walk and turned into an inn on the left side of the street. Severus studied it from a distance. It was considerably less clean than the Three Broomsticks, but then again, just about every inn aside from the Three Broomsticks looked to be the place one went if only to escape youths - filthy. There hung a sign above the entryway, creaking softly in the wind, granting the silent area an eerie sort of feel despite the sunlight.

The Hog's Head.

Once Dumbledore had disappeared behind the front door, it immediately became apparent that getting closer would be mandatory. Severus strode out of the shadows from around a narrow alleyway and took each step with a flight of easy grace, inching passed shops as well as the debris and garbage thrown out by their careless owners. He made it close enough where he could study Dumbledore from the window whilst still remaining far across the street. The lighting was dim inside the little inn, but Severus was grateful toward the owner for at least keeping the windows clean.

He was not skilled in lipreading from a distance, but the expressions of the men inside made Severus furrow his eyebrows. The task at hand was momentarily forgotten as he watched them. Even from across the street, the air seemed thick with tension and made unease trickle down his spine. It wasn't entirely menacing, but Severus knew few people who would look at Dumbledore the way the inn owner did.

The two men soon separated, however, and the oddness of the scene was forgotten. Dumbledore nodded toward the other wizard, who nodded back, and both retreated in opposite directions toward… Somewhere. Where, Severus didn't know. He couldn't tell.

What he could tell, though, was that where they were going was nowhere outside.

The air seemed to grow colder, the wind a little louder. Severus' limbs froze, but adrenaline shot through his body, begging him to move. The two men had yet to reappear within those short few seconds, and therefore, it was proven that he was safe among the openness in Hogsmeade.

He stood up straighter and rushed across the street, shoes clacking loudly on the cobblestone. The wind blew about his face, and however calm it was, it only made Severus' blood rush faster through his veins.

Once he made it to the front steps of the Hog's Head, attempting a calm air, he pulled open the door.

Silence rung about the room for a moment as Severus took in his surroundings. The bar was deserted, every chair and table unoccupied.

He drew in a sharp breath. All he needed was for this vacancy to last.

All too soon, voices were echoing up the hall in front of him. He could detect one. It was familiar, _so very_ familiar. Severus dropped the calm disposition and rushed down the narrow corridor, albeit still trying to be careful with his movements. His shoes made soft knocks on the wood, cloak billowing quietly behind him. The voices became steadily louder as he came closer.

Severus heart beat rapidly in his chest, excitement crackled about his person like sparks of a fire. He was almost there - he knew - he could hear. His answer to the Dark Lord's command was mere feet from him now.

_"Find for me a threat, Severus, if there be one." _

And he lowered himself to the keyhole of room 11's door. Dumbledore sat within a chair at the front of the room, eyes growing wider, expression apprehensive. The woman across from him was stiff in her seat, eyes staring into nothing. Her mouth began to move-

"Wha' are you doing here?" A sharp voice rose from behind him, and Severus didn't have time to look over his shoulder at the man who had grabbed the collar of his robes and pulled him up into a choke.

Severus recognized him as the barman - tall, thin, too large to fight without a wand. He reached for his pocket, but the other wizard tore it from his hands. Moments later, Severus knew nothing more but the loud thumps of boots on wood and the taste of salt settling atop his tongue. His vision blackened at the edges, flashes of the sickly gold sunlight piercing his eyes. He let out a strangled yelp as he tried for breath, but it was futile.

The next thing he knew was the sound of his skin scraping against wood and brick, a streak of blue sky and tears falling from his eyes as the door slammed shut behind him. It was closed before he even made it to the street.

A trickle of blood fell onto the stone beneath him. Severus hissed.

The sun had settled atop the tree line, casting a golden hue over the village. Although, its warm presence did nothing to quench the chill and fear that had replaced the adrenaline in his body. He didn't bother to wipe his bloody hands on his robes, but rather swiped his wand up from the ground and pushed himself upright, swallowing the bile in his throat. It was like swallowing a needle, or an apple, whole. Severus hissed again at the pain but gathered up his cloak and moved on.

Thus began his slow trek back out of the village. Soon enough, the blood on his face had dried and the dust was blown away on the wind. Hogsmeade was long out of his way, and with a heavy throw of his cloak, he apparated.

oOo

Severus' appeared in a clearing with a soft crack. He cursed as he lost his footing and stumbled over a tree root, but managed to regain his composure immediately, and left for the dark streets of Berkshire.

A mist was settling across the grounds outside the county, gathering at each side of the street. The moonlight reflected off of it, and the area was soon swathed with a silvery light, thick with the scent of dew. The darkness encased Severus as he strode down the path, clothing him in a kind of cold that couldn't simply be cured by the warmth of a fire. His cloak billowed about his person in a way that suggested more than a heavy breeze, his eyes were set straight ahead, the wind was quiet but the chill of it was strong.

Turning back was inconsiderable, he had to keep reminding himself, because it was still quite possible. Although, he refused the prospect of running from the Dark Lord - he always did. Retreating from someone to whom you had vouched such a loyalty to was simply foolish. Severus preferred life rather than death, however painful that life may be.

But as the gates for the Lestrange family manor parted at his presence, an everlasting sleep didn't sound as bad as it once did.

The thoughts didn't linger as a little house elf greeted him at the door. Tremors racked the creature's body, its eyes were wide and bloodshot, shining in the dull light. It pointed a bony finger down the right corridor and Severus departed the hall.

The portraits that hung along the walls held blank expressions, but watched him stride by as he weaved from room to room, footsteps soft on the rugs. The room he searched for was near the centre of the manor, and within minutes, he was at the door to it.

The black, ornate handle to the dining hall glistened in the low light. It almost looked wet, slimy, and Severus pretended that it really was as his warm made contact with the cold wood. The sound of a fire could be heard crackling beyond the door, and the time it took to softly push it open could have lasted a million years.

"Severus."

Snape moved into the room, legs feeling as though they were about to collapse. He tried to calm his shaking hands, but it was no use. He hid them, almost whipping them behind his back, and inclined his head.

"My Lord."

Voldemort's figure stood stark against the fire, which cast a soft golden light illuminating the end of the hall. Shadows rose and fell on the floor and walls, almost as though the house itself was alive and breathing in the scent of fear with relish, evidently making the room seem so much smaller than it really was.

"Your rudeness is unexpected," Voldemort said. "You are aware that entering without preamble is often viewed as inconsiderate, aren't you, Severus?"

Severus swallowed, inclining his head once more. "I apologize, My Lord."

The room was engulfed in silence once again. Voldemort traced a finger along his lips, wand in hand as he stared into the fire, seemingly lost in thought but disturbingly well aware of his surroundings all the same.

"Your admission is pardoned," he spoke again at last. "It was so very kind of Bella to lend us her family's home." He turned, and Severus drained all emotion from his body. His nerves dissolved like most things, flushed down a part of his mind that was sure to never be touched. They became blurred, faint, forgotten. "You are quite early."

Severus said nothing.

The Dark Lord strode forward, coming to a halt a few feet behind the table in the centre of the room, the only thing dividing him from his servant. And Severus really was nothing but a mere servant, that he knew. But at the same time, he was more than the rest of his fellow Death Eaters - he knew that, too, for the Dark Lord pardoned very few.

"Have you accomplished your task?" the Dark Lord asked of him.

Severus was silent for a moment. "I have retrieved information."

Voldemort studied him, seemingly intrigued, his finger still tracing the line of his lips and wand held loosely in front of him. Severus was careful not to quiver under the scrutiny, avoiding the Dark Lord's gaze.

"Enlighten me."

Severus took in a deep breath. "I have heard news of the Headmaster of Hogwarts searching for a new Divination Professor. I successfully trailed Albus Dumbledore in Hogsmeade today, and discovered a possible subject for the position."

Voldemort nodded, but something flickered in his eyes. "Explain to me, Severus, how this is relevant."

Severus' felt a sudden warmth at his hairline. He forced himself to steady his breathing, his heart beginning a rapid pulse, a bone shuddering pound in his ear. "The woman foretold of- of something." Severus bit down on his tongue, and it showed in his voice. "_Something I failed to attain_." He tasted blood, and fought to keep himself from cursing out loud for his slip of speech. He didn't stutter, and _certainly_ not in front of the Dark Lord.

Severus bit back a hiss. He despised looking like a fool.

Voldemort continued to study him. The grip on his wand had tightened. "Is this the information you have for me, Severus? You have failed?"

Severus' bowed his head, eyes closed tight against the outside world. His hands were in fists at his sides, nails digging into sweaty palms. His words became strangled, and for a moment, it felt as though the barman at the Hog's Head had pulled him back up into a choke. But this was worse. Oh, so much worse. "Yes, My Lord."

Silence rang through the hall once more.

"You disappoint me."

The spell had struck his shoulder before he could make sense of the bang. The sound erupted in a shockwave of red, rebounding off the windows and shining a million times brighter. Severus' screamed, a deep gash springing up just inches from his neck, flushing the heat away from his body in a heavy rush of blood. He fell to his knees with a sickening thud, left hand falling weakly at his side, right hand holding him up. He coughed, and for a moment, it didn't feel as though he would be able to stop from retching this time. His stomach heaved, but somehow held off, and Severus forced himself to swallow the bile stuck in his throat, rid his mouth of the salty taste of vomit and blood.

"Tell me, Severus," Voldemort's voice spoke again. Severus risked a glance up. The Dark Lord had turned his back on him once more. "How you could've possibly failed in your command, something I - I see now, foolishly - believed you entirely capable of accomplishing."

"I was-" Severus spluttered, coughing up blood and saliva. "there - saw - was caught. Was-" He broke off, stomach heaving. He swallowed again. "I didn't know. I wasn't-"

"Wise enough?" Voldemort finished for him. He rounded on Severus and this time, they caught each other's eyes. The Dark Lord's gaze bored into him, reaching every corner of his mind. "You were not wise enough to evade what could have so easily been eliminated?" His wand arm arched over his head, and Severus closed his eyes.

Nothing could have prepared him for such an impact. The room erupted in a burst of yellow-green, and Severus was thrown back, a blood curdling scream sounding his pain. His body struck the wall with a heavy _bang _and quiet snaps of breaking bones. For a moment, all he could see was white, then his eyes adjusted again to the darkness of the room.

Everything was blurred, and blood was streaked along the wall behind him, he was sure of it. A cracked skull could be fixed, but Severus wasn't entirely sure if that was really what he wanted.

Or what he needed.

Lily's smiling, laughing face was suddenly before him, but it was gone as quick as it had come.

"I pity you, Severus," said the Dark Lord. He moved around the table, and Severus felt a rush of a certain kind of fear he hadn't felt in a long time.

His body stiffened. He attempted to pull himself up, but ended in a slump instead, hands on the cold floor, supporting him with all that they could. "My Lord… Forgive me. Please."

Voldemort was above him now, wand pointed directly at the nape of his neck. His eyes were crimson, his skin stretched tight and pale, the remains of his soul split but still thriving among his body. He was as human as the man he once was, but as alien as one could be. "Clearly I cannot kill you, Severus," he said. "You are the only one worthy as a spy, but your moronity needs acknowledgment."

The world spun before him. "_Please_."

Voldemort shook his head. "You are a fool."

A scream, a bright light, Lily's smile, her eyes aglow with the happiness and love they once held for him, formed inside his head. But slowly, she dissolved from his mind, just as he had from hers years before - blurred, faint… forgotten.

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_**A/N:**_ _Thanks for reading._ _Any kind of feedback is appreciated._


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